


One moment in time

by Antheas_Blackberry



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale and Crowley Through The Ages (Good Omens), Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Don't copy to another site, Historical References, Kissing, M/M, New Year, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Crowley, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Wings, Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens), Y2K, moments in history
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-09-24 01:17:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20349973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antheas_Blackberry/pseuds/Antheas_Blackberry
Summary: Various moments in time with Aziraphale and Crowley. In no particular order. Most historical events are true, with some artistic license of course.





	1. Framingham, 1986

Framingham, MA USA  
January 1986

Aziraphale looked out over the town from where he was perched on top of a building at the college; he could see the entire town and beyond. He could feel the pain and anguish radiating from the college, the town, the entire country. The world.

He stood there, letting the icy wind whip through his wings; he’d not returned them to the ethereal plane. No one could see him from his position on the roof, and besides no one was looking. The wings protected him somewhat from the emotions that were running rampant across the nation, wailing out, crying out for solace and comfort. Tears of millions coursed down Aziraphale’s face, and if he hadn’t been such a warm being of light, they would have frozen solid. 

The angel was unsure how long he had been standing on the roof, but hours must have passed as the sun was about to set over the town. He watched, tears still slowly falling, until he was startled by a soft sound behind him. He did not need to turn to know who it was.

“Thought you hated the colonies, angel,” Crowley said quietly.

“Today I’ve made an exception,” Aziraphale replied.

Neither being spoke while the sun continued to set, casting a golden glow across Aziraphale’s wings; crimson, amber with hints of purple faded into a midnight blue sky. Only then did the angel close his eyes in reverence.

He cast his thoughts out and took in what he could feel; the intents of the prayers of millions. He sent out his blessings to a young boy with brown curls and a young girl in a white cardigan and tartan skirt (excellent taste by the way, he thought) who had not yet met. So close, but still so far away. Some day they would talk about this day and how it affected them in different ways.

For now, he would let himself be led away by Crowley and take comfort where he could get it and hope for a better tomorrow.


	2. Soho, 31 December 1999

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley really should stop taking credit for things that the humans have managed on their own. But he does like the commendations.

**31 December 1999  
23:50pm, Soho**

Aziraphale should have known better than to try to reason with a very drunk Crowley. Said demon was drunkenly pacing the book shop, waving a bottle of champagne dangerously close to his Oscar Wilde collection; most of them first editions. The angel watched the pacing nervously.

Crowley had convinced Hell that he had come up with Y2K (he hadn’t) and that it was going to cause nothing but chaos. Granted, in the months leading up to 2000, people worldwide had been scrambling to make preparations, updating computer code and creating contingency plans. So, Crowley had been correct on that count, and had received the usual commendation. Hell was, of course, expecting something more come midnight. 

The demon was hoping for something absolutely atrocious to occur, like all the traffic lights or electricity going out across London once the clock struck midnight, hence the pacing. And the drinking, although that wasn’t really out of character or different from any other night spent in the book shop.

At three minutes to midnight, Crowley threw himself across the sofa, legs sprawled across the arm. “If all the lightsssss don’t go out at midnight, I’m fucked,” he hissed.

Aziraphale sobered up slightly, swaying a bit where he was sat in his customary chair. He pulled a face, grimacing at the taste in his mouth that happened with his brief sojourn into sobriety. And then he had an idea.

**23:58pm, Soho**

Aziraphale managed to get to his feet and made an effort to sober up just a little bit more. He grabbed Crowley’s arm, and with only a minor squawk of drunken protest, dragged him off the couch and towards the door. 

An angel and a demon found themselves standing on the top of the MI-6 building; it was the closest building that Aziraphale could think of at a moment’s notice that wasn’t St. Paul’s Cathedral, as that certainly would have gone down like a lead balloon. It was freezing atop the building, and the angel unfurled his wings to protect an already shivering Crowley from the wind and cold.

Moments later, the fireworks began, and the two were momentarily awestruck at the grandeur. It was even more impressive, as it seemed that all of the lights in the surrounding area had suddenly gone out. It would have taken a miracle for that to happen. 

_“Angel,”_ Crowley gasped out, incredulous.

“Happy New Year, my dear,” Aziraphale said with a fond smile.

“Happy New Year, Angel,” Crowley whispered before placing, a soft and gentle kiss on Aziraphale’s very warm lips.

There was a sudden whooshing sound, and the sound of soft feathers brushing against each other, as Crowley brought his wings out to help keep them warm. He couldn’t help it; the height of the building and the wind made him feel though as if he should be flying. 

For now, their combined wings kept them warm while they watched the fireworks and exchanged soft kisses to welcome in the new millennium.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have a historical event you'd like to see, hit me up in the comments or on tumblr at 

**Author's Note:**

> Funny the details you remember, says the girl in the cardigan and tartan.


End file.
